Opening to the Possibility

What Would You Do If You Knew You Couldn't Fail?

Expectations and Specialness: Say Goodbye, Bitches!

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Birthday Cake

Birthday Cake

Birthdays come wrapped in expectations and specialness.  I’ve always loved my birthday.  I love the date.  I love permission to claim the day for myself.  Behavior that might be interpreted as selfish on other days gets carte blanche on my birthday. All bets are off. I do what I want, or don’t do what I don’t want.  It’s all about ME.

Oops, specialness.

Maybe it’s because I’m past what I am sure is the halfway mark of my life – I’ve always planned to live to be 106 which means I now have 48 years left, but I am starting to have mixed emotions about the whole birthday thing.  Part of it is letting go.  Letting go of the idea of specialness (which as any good ACIM student/teacher knows is of the ego).  Letting go of expectations – again an ego construct (I do not know what anything is for).  Letting go of the idea that things should be any different than they are.  That one is a little tough these past few years.  Jay and I always used to take a mini-vacation for my birthday and that hasn’t been in our budget for several years now.  In fact, what I do have planned — the pedicure and the car alignment (don’t laugh – my poor old Prius needs some TLC, too) and the dinner out – none of those things are really in our budget either.  We need a new budget.

(Shit, there I go again, pulling the sympathy card.  Mea culpa.)

I am contemplating whether or not I want to renew my real estate license.  It has sadly NOT been a great source of revenue these past few years and I am looking at the expense and wondering if it’s worth it.  The number of properties I currently have under contract is ONE – a short sale that the bank needs to approve for anything to happen and IF I double end the deal (which is quite possible), I will make around $800 (a little more if they pay the sales tax, less is if comes out of my pocket).  I have two other clients who theoretically should be purchasing homes before my license expires on July 31st (I’ve written several offers for both but $100K houses are a competitive price point).  Everything else is not worth counting as unhatched chickens.

(Damn!  There I go again.  I told you, working on healing.  Working on letting go.)

So, yeah – I’m letting go of a lot of things; letting go of what I thought things should look like.  Jay and I are readying our house for sale – I’m praying to can get enough to walk away without any funds out of pocket, there is the whole old house mess (see yesterday’s post), and frankly the whole question of whether or not we are going to stay in Albuquerque or move on.  The signs seem to point to moving on, although on many levels that breaks my heart because I love the community I have here.  I’ll miss my friends.

And yet, the whole expectations and specialness thing comes into play and I find myself asking who made up the world I see?  Why do I bring specialness to the table?  So I can feel hurt when people fail to fulfill the roles I’ve assigned them?

Years ago, we are talking over thirty, my then boyfriend Michael forgot my birthday.  I was devastated, until I realized it was MY responsibility to ask for what I wanted.  He didn’t remember it was my birthday because guys suck at shit like that, and I had very cleverly failed to point it out to him because I was too busy setting him up for failure.  (I knew he’d forget it.  Be careful what you “know.”)  I never again made that mistake.

Because, seriously, why would I assign others a role so that I can feel hurt?  I witness it and know that if anyone hurts me, it is because I gave them that power.  I set up expectations and played victim when the expectations weren’t met.

And so it’s the opportunity to let myself let go of that.  After all this time, after all these years, I should know better.  See how awesome God is?  Giving me exactly what I need to heal.  The part of me that clings to specialness needs to heal.

Jay knows when my birthday is.  He doesn’t have funds to do anything extravagant (I control the money so that’s my fault), but he knows when it is and what the expectations are.

(There I go again.  You see how much healing I have to do!)

So today, as I bury my pity party tendencies and grow up, I wish myself the ability to stay present to the gifts being laid at my feet.  To appreciate the goodness they bring.  To know that I get to embrace or not embrace what I want.  (Grow up now, or grow up later.  It’s a required course.)

I embrace the recognition that things are perfect as they are.  I embrace the hurt little girl that wants to be healed of blaming anyone or anything for not meeting her expectations.  I take myself out for the pedicure that I have been sorely in need of for over a month.  I decide how much work I do or don’t want to do.  I plan just how my husband and I will enjoy each other’s company.

I wish myself Happy Birthday and I let the rest of those damned expectations go.  Goodbye Specialness.  Goodbye Expectations.  Bye, bye, Bitches.  It’s been real.  Oh, wait a minute.  NOT!

It’s a required course.

Namaste, people, Namaste.

Bye Bye Bitches

Bye Bye Bitches

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